An Important Game
by Mica Romanus
Summary: Moriarty has a new game for Sherlock and has waited 3 years to play. Moving people like chess pieces he manipulates the board. What is this new puzzle and what does it have to do with Sherlock and a woman? Who will pay the final price? (Sorry I truly fail at writing summaries) Rating Subject to Change.
1. The Morgue

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. If anyone has any questions or would just like to chat my inbox is open! :D (Or drop me a line on tumblr! p-r-o-x-y/tumblr/com) I would really love to get some feedback to help improve my writing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing... no really, nothing. It's quite sad. Owners are Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and I assume chaps at the BBC.

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><p>Chapter One<p>

The Morgue

The wind bit at her face from the top of the car park. And clouds were beginning to open up as small droplets hit her face. Taking deep breaths she disrobed from her over-sized black coat. Chills began to rise on her skin. Positioning herself she looked out amongst the buildings. 'What office was it again?' she thought. Then she spotted him, his back was to her but his salt and pepper hair was unmistakable. Leaning back in his chair with his feet on his desk Greg Lestrade relaxed while reading a case file. Little did he know the danger he was in, or the headache he was about to experience.

Sighing the dark haired girl started unpacking her bag. Locking the pieces into place, it was time to work. Breathing deeply she set the large sniper rifle on the garage roofs edge, setting the sight directly at her target. She watched as he spoke on the phone, laughed with colleagues, ate a copious amount of donuts, and read files. She was beginning to get quite cold, but her coat didn't make for the best military gear, plus she would hate to ruin it, it was a gift after all. Given to her by her employer who had impeccable taste in fashion. She watched the detective inspector for what seemed like hours, until finally her phone rang. Answering without looking at the screen she relaxed from her weapon.

"Thank god, my neck was beginning to kill me!" she answered. "So is it done?"

"Yes ma'am" said a voice she didn't expect. Taking the phone away from her face she looked at the name, it was not who she had anticipated.

"Why are you calling me Tom? Where is Jim?"

"About that, it is done, but there have been complications."

"Am I blowing the inspectors head off or not!" she yelled into the phone.

"No, Sherlock jumped he's dead. But we have had causalities." Tom said his voice barely above a whisper.

"What?"

"We've had casualties' ma'am." He stated again.

"Tom speak quickly, what happened?" irritation was palpable in her tone.

"Our man in the building across the street was killed, the one for John Watson, shot, we're investigating. And ummmm…" Tom stammered "He's dead. James Moriarty is dead." Silence fell over the phone as the information sunk in. Suddenly the girl was filled with a rage she hadn't felt in a long time. Taking the rifle in hand again she aimed at Lestrade, studying his office, she gaged just how many people she could kill before they even knew what was happening. Then just as sudden as the feeling was there it was replaced with a want. She didn't want to kill a meaningless group of people. She wanted to destroy those who mattered most. His name being John Watson.

"Seb, are you still there?" Tom's voice rang out from the discarded phone.

"I'm on my way; I will be at Bart's Hospital in 20 minutes. You will explain everything to me there." She said, quickly hanging up before she received an answer. Disassembling her weapon her hands shook, her fingers having difficulty maneuvering the small elements of her rifle. Packing her bag quickly she left the roof like she was never there.

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><p>Bart's hospital was in an uproar. The police and on lookers scattered the area, congesting the streets. The press were just beginning to arrive and the news was ringing out. 'Famous detective Sherlock Holmes is dead.' Making her way to the adjacent building Seb pushed through the crowd. Her mind was on one purpose she didn't care about anything else. Ascending the stair case with a determined speed, she found Tom standing over their fallen comrade. Other team members hovered around the scene; however they chose to scatter at the sight of their dark haired, ill-tempered commander.<p>

"What happened?" she asked while looking out the window. Luckily no one was interested in this death; though it would have made for an interesting scene.

"I don't know. I arrived when I was told, and found him. What do you think?" Tom said ruffling his ginger curls.

"I don't care about him, what happened to Moriarty?" she said sitting down upon the window seal. Nearly propping her feet up on the fallen body. She leveled Tom with a hard stare.

"It's complicated because people got here so quickly, but it appears he killed himself." Tom said fiddling with his coat.

"No, he wouldn't do that." She said plainly. "He thinks too highly of himself."

"I'm just telling you what I've heard; I guess we won't know for sure until the medical reports are available." Seb gritted her teeth, finding it hard to believe. How would the morning have gone differently if she would have been more firm with him? If she has insisted that she be the one at the hospital. How would have things played out differently. 'She would know what the fuck was going on' she thought. 'And possibly dead.' Looking down to the body at her feet, it suddenly seemed strange Moriarty's insistence about the layout for the day.

"What about him though? He certainly didn't kill himself. Unless you can somehow magically shoot yourself in the back." Tom said smiling at the little joke he had made.

"Mycroft's pawns, it had to be. Who else would walk up behind someone with a much larger gun and shoot them." Seb answered frustrated. She was tired of not knowing. She wanted answers. "Pack up his gear and meet me at the hospital at midnight."

"Why?" Tom said after her, as she retreated down the stairwell from which she just came. Her black coat flowing after her.

"Because he" she said pointing to the corpse "was the only witness other than Moriarty to Sherlock's demise, and since they are in fact both dead we don't actually know anything then do we. That plus Mycroft's involvement doesn't exactly spell out a job well done now does it? I need confirmation."

"Confirmation." Tom repeated.

"Yeah, or I start target practice." She said gliding down the stairs leaving Tom to clean up the mess. How he was going to move a body with this much media around he wasn't sure.

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><p>As night fell and people surrendered to the cold, choosing warm pubs and good company. The street was blissfully silent. Rounding the corner in a white lab coat, her long hair pulled back in a tight braid, Seb made her way into the hospital. Looking like one of the unfortunate, doomed to work a graveyard shift. She smiled at the security guard on duty.<p>

"Crazy day I heard. Did you see any of the action?" she said to the very tired looking chap.

"Yeah I heard we have Sherlock Holmes in our morgue. If I was less of a gent I would go check it out." He replied a sick smile spread across his expression.

"Really, I thought it was just gossip!" she replied playing shocked.

"Yeah and some other chap they found on the roof is down there too, they said he shot himself. Tragic business it is." At the man's words, Seb felt a strained smile reach her lips. Tapping the desk she sighed deeply.

"Well best get to work, can't be late can I. Have a goodnight." Nearly running down the corridor she walked until she found the direction she wanted. The morgue, housed in the belly of the building was four floors beneath her. Taking the stairs by twos she raced down. Only once having to adjust the pistol and silencer that hung just under her lab coat.

The passageway was eerily silent and dark. Walking as quiet as possible she made her way to the double doors. The large sign saying MORGUE in bold print separated her from the truth, a truth she still wasn't precisely prepared for. Taking a deep breath she braced herself. Suddenly she felt a hand grip her shoulder. Pulling her gun from its harness in what appeared to be milliseconds, she pointed the weapon in her startled assailants face, cocking the hammer back as she did.

"WOAH it's just me!" Tom yelled throwing his hands up in front of his face, dropping his duffle bag with a loud thud. "You told me to meet you here remember."

"Sorry" she said holstering her weapon. "This place gives me the creeps."

"What now? What do you need me to do?" he asked.

"I need you to go find records, and once you have located them, destroy them." She said with a wide smile. "Also I need you to find our bosses personal belongings, namely his mobile phone."

"Got it." He said pumping his fist. Picking up his bag and straightening his own lab coat. He practically skipped down the corridor, suddenly looking like a five year old, not a man that could easily kill people. Sighing Seb mentally prepared herself to enter the morgue again. The room was dark, save for the light that flooded in from the observatory windows, and cold. Placing her bag down on the empty dissection table, she removed a flashlight.

She needed to work quickly less be discovered but as she starred at the 20 metal doors that separated her from the dead, she didn't want to move. She had no fear of the dead, hell she had seen more dead bodies than she could count, most by her own doing. But she didn't want to find out the truth. Walking over to the first door she pulled it open. Inside laid a dark bag, its occupants figure unrecognizable. Taking hold of the large zipper she pulled quickly exposing a ghostly blue and white face. It was an old woman. Sighing she moved to the next, and then the next, each locker containing a nameless person of no interest. Gritting her teeth Seb moved to the last row.

'This had to be it, they had to be here.' She thought. Pulling the last casket open no body bag was present. Stepping back she examined the wall, 18 bodies were rotting before her, and 18 bodies that meant nothing to her. They weren't here, Sherlock or Moriarty. 'Where else do you put a dead body in a hospital' she thought sarcastically to herself. Frustrated she shoved each locker closed loudly, no longer caring if anyone came to investigate. Because if they did, her mood would surely insure they received a lead parting gift.

Sighing she sat down on the morgue slab, the cool metal stinging her thighs from under her short skirt. Silence carried on. Determined to wait for Tom to return she let her mind wander. That was until she heard faint breathing behind her. Slowly she moved for her gun, standing quickly and aiming in the direction of the sound.

"Oh it looks like someone is happy to see me." rang out a deep, yet playful voice from the dark. "Did you miss me?" Shocked Seb didn't move. She didn't lower her weapon even as the man she knew all too well emerged from the dark. Wearing a perfectly tailored grey suit, he looked never better, with his hair slicked back against his head.

"Sebastian please, put down the gun." He said extending his arms out, in a mock surrender.

"Don't call me that. You know I don't like it." She finally replied, setting the gun down on the table but not putting it away. Sighing she tried to relax.

"So you're not dead then." Seb said plainly, trying to keep all emotion from her voice.

"Just a bit of fun really. Why? You weren't worried were you?" he said smiling as he jumped up to sit on the slab.

"No I was just worried about my last pay check. You know job hunting for mercenaries can be quite difficult." She joked. Jumping up to sit next to him she scrutinized him. He looked even happier than he did the morning before, which was truly terrifying. "What has you in such a good mood? Not being dead?"

"The game." He answered with a wicked smile.

"What about it?" she asked.

"Oh my dear Seb, it has just gotten a whole lot more interesting." He said taking her hand in his and kissing the top of it. "Death really does open up so much more fun than one would think."

"Really?" she replied as his hand moved up her arm to her exposed neck. Slowly his fingers encircled her, gripping her throat firmly. Inhaling sharply he slammed her down against the table, his hand still on her throat while the other found the hem of her skirt. Hovering above her he whispered in her ear, the heat from his breath making her quiver.

"Oh yes. Revenge and heartbreak it will be so much fun. We will let them think they've won. Let them think we are gone. And when life is pleasant once again we will strike from the dark. We will watch their world crumble. I will win this game. Sherlock won't know what hit him." he laughed. Taking his knee he spread her thighs, resting between them. She felt his excitement.

"Sherlock's not dead either then?" Seb asked.

"No no, some scheme with the Ice Man." He said pulling her firmly against him. "Thought they had outwitted me."

"Really in a morgue?" she said.

"What?" he mocked offended. "You'll have a story to tell."

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><p>To Be Continued.<p>

Thanks for reading!


	2. A Short Talk

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. If anyone has any questions or would just like to chat my inbox is open! :D (Or drop me a line on tumblr! p-r-o-x-y/tumblr/com) I would really love to get some feedback to help improve my writing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing... no really, nothing. It's quite sad. Owners are Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and I assume chaps at the BBC.

* * *

><p>Chapter 2<p>

A Short Talk

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><p>Tom ran back down toward the morgue, Seb wasn't going to be happy. He hadn't found much of anything. Only basic records, though those had said Richard Brook and weren't much of a problem. And there was absolutely no sign of Moriarty's things. Slipping down the dark corridor, being hesitant around corners, Tom hadn't met any opposition. That was until he heard voices from the room in question. Stopping dead in his tracks, he waited. Had Seb been caught? If she had, he knew she could take care of herself, but what if she needed help. But also what if by him intruding that caused more problems. Laughter suddenly filled the quiet space. Choosing to wade in Tom opened the door abruptly. Startled by the sight in front of him he stood perfectly still. There sat both of his superiors casually smoking in the dark, neither one seeming to care about his intrusion.<p>

"Ah Tom glad you could finally make it." Moriarty said plainly.

"Okay so not dead then." Tom said closing the door behind him. Shocked he looked back in forth between the two of them.

"Ehh the last time I checked no." Jim's voice was playful as it always was. An element of that was relaxing and yet also frightening. It made what he chose to say all the more important.

"I'm confused. Why would this hospital have death records for Richard Brook if you didn't die?"

"I'm sure if you look at those records you'll see Sherlock's death certificate too. And he isn't dead either."

"But you shot yourself, I saw the roof top, there was blood everywhere."

"Oh that, that was just a bit of theatrics. A bag of blood and a blank can make for a very compelling performance. I knew the moment I got on that roof Sherlock wasn't going to just do what I wanted; he wasn't going to just jump. He had to make sure I didn't leave either. So I decided to take that choice from him."

"You bastard!" Seb said hitting him on the arm. "You knew all of this was going to happen. And you didn't say anything."

"Of course."

"That explains this morning" said Tom off in thought.

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><p>Earlier that morning<p>

The sun was just beginning to break the tree line when Seb had finally roused from her sleep. Rolling over in anticipation of her warm bedmate, she found cold sheets. He had been gone for some time. Sighing she rolled out of bed, the chill of the room cooling her naked form quickly. Throwing on a dressing gown Seb made her way downstairs to the dining room. The usually quiet and empty house was buzzing with activity. Today was the big day. The day Jim Moriarty was waiting for. Opening the double doors to the large dining room it was crowded with people. Some talked, some ate, and others cleaned their weapons on the table. Sitting at the head of the room was the man she wanted to see. He was sitting quietly fiddling with his phone. As she approached, a very large muscular tattooed man noticed her and quickly vacated his seat, scooting down to make room for her next to Moriarty.

"You got in late last night." Seb remarked, as she poured herself a cup of tea. "Were you at Kitty Riley's place?"

"Are you jealous Seb?" he said not looking up from his phone.

"No" she replied not all that convincingly. "I know why she is important, but I don't have to like her, or your involvement with her."

"Awe how sweet" Jim teased. Rolling her eyes Seb tried to maintain her composure. Looking around the room she nearly laughed at the scene. Only in this house, with the leadership of one man, would a group of assassins be having breakfast with each other. As if it was perfectly normal for a large group of psychopaths to share a table. Tom was just now entering the room, his hair still ruffled from bed.

"There's been a change in plans" Jim said suddenly. Instantly the room was silent, all eyes fixed on him. "I've been given some new information so we will have to mix things up a bit."

"What new information?" Seb interrupted. Earning her a sideways look and raised eyebrow from Jim.

"The new kind." He answered. "Scott you'll be going to Baker Street. The old woman is yours." He continued gesturing toward the tattooed man next to Seb. Suddenly there were glances being thrown around the table. 'What the hell was going on?'

"Andrew you'll be accompanying me to wherever Sherlock chooses his downfall." In response a young man at the end of the table stood, still holding his fork, shocked. "And you'll take care of Dr. Watson. Seb you get Lestrade."

"No" Seb was standing now, staring down at the man barking orders.

"What?" Jim said a slight smile on his face.

"No! We've been planning this for ages. I'm going with you." Tension rose in the air as everyone in the room watched the interaction with their breath held.

"Hmmm no you're not you'll be going to New Scotland Yard."

"And you trust Andrew with this? I'm the better shot. No offence." She said looking toward the startled man at the end of the table. Throwing his hands up in surrender, he smiled at her, trying anything to dissuade the tension.

"You will take care of Lestrade. Do I make myself clear Seb?" Moriarty said, all playfulness gone from his voice. Though his face was calm, his eyes held anger. Malice was there that truly terrified her. Biting her lip she sat down without another word. As the morning went on people left, all arranging for the jobs they had planned for the day, Moriarty did have a business to keep up, until only five remained in the room. Seb sat still looking at her untouched cup of tea. Scott and Andrew were leaned up against the wall speaking of strategy, angles, and ammo. Jim had gone back to looking at his phone.

"We better be off then. Got to get a paper, the cover story should be hilarious." Jim said standing and finishing off his coffee. "I'll text you all the details." Seb still didn't make eye contact with him, even as he stood over her.

"Don't get caught." He said, kissing the top of her head. Snapping his fingers at Andrew they both left quickly. Seb watched after him.

"Tom don't say a word." Seb said as the young man opened his mouth. Sighing she left the room, eyes watching her every movement. Getting dressed quickly in tight black trousers and top, she secured her hair in a tight bun. Looking at herself a long mirror, she looked out of place. Easy to spot at least by her standards. Surrendering to her appearance she grabbed her heavily armed bag. However a large box on the bed stopped her from leaving. There was no bow, or card, but she knew it was a gift. Sighing she opened the box slowly. Smiling at the contents, she ran her hands over the fabric. Inside was a pitch black coat, with black fur around the collar. Taking it out, she quickly wrapped it around herself suddenly feeling like everything was in place. She was always confused by the man she unfortunately loved.

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><p>Back in the morgue Tom stood still waiting for answers. It was Seb who spoke first.<p>

"You knew who ever came with you would be killed."

"Yes." Jim replied. Shaking her head Seb couldn't believe her ears.

"And you chose Andrew… why couldn't you have picked a shit shot." She almost laughed.

"Why did you pick anyone at all?" Tom interrupted.

"If Mycroft's men didn't find any of mine it would be hard to convince them they beat me. Someone had to die. And it wasn't going to be me." Jim stated simply.

"If it was Mycroft wouldn't you have known Seb?" Tom asked.

"Just because he has a weakness for women, which I am not entirely sure he knows about, that doesn't mean he tells his staff everything. I work for him, I don't sleep with him. It wouldn't surprise me if no one knew about this little plan between Sherlock and him until today. And I wasn't exactly available was I?" Seb said hopping down from the metal slab. Straightening her clothes she gathered her things stuffing them back in the black duffle bag she had.

"What was all this for then? Seeing who could fake their death the best?" Tom said flabbergasted. Moriarty let out a sinister laugh.

"Just a part of the puzzle really, if Sherlock had proved to be boring then he would have lost this round and the game would be over. Luckily it is just beginning; especially since they think the big bad wolf is gone for good." He laughed again. "Which does mean I will have to be quite low-key for some time" he continued as if the realization had just hit him.

"And Sherlock?" Seb asked.

"Oh he will be playing dead until he thinks he has eliminated my web, thus freeing his friends from danger. Speaking of which we need to get in touch with the major players informing them to jump ship, would hate to lose some big guns." Jim said pulling his phone from his pocket.

"And the rest?" Tom asked.

"Let them burn." Jim's voice dropped a few octaves his voice reverberating throughout the room. "Since I am going to have to stay in the shadows, the two of you will be doing most of the leg work."

"Great," they both said in unison.

"Seb you'll continue to work for the Ice Man, if that isn't a problem." Jim said as he put on his coat.

"Why does she always get the undercover work?" Tom whined.

"I have something special planned just for you Tom, it requires you having sex with a plain girl but I think you can struggle through it. "

"Yeah? What's her name?"

"Molly Hooper" In response to hearing her name Seb shot Moriarty an irritated look, she hadn't cared for his involvement with that woman either.

"The two of you will keep me informed of everything that goes on, while I plan the real fun." Jim said putting his arm around Seb. "Let's get out of this cold place."

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><p><strong>To be continued.<strong>

**Thanks for reading**

**Next chapter: Did You Miss Me?**


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